


habitual

by chartreuser



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: BDSM, M/M, a fic about bdsm without sex, this is a free world and i am free to write whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 22:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11792364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chartreuser/pseuds/chartreuser
Summary: There's a future in here for them somewhere.





	habitual

**Author's Note:**

> content warnings at the bottom!
> 
> i've just felt really lost with my writing recently, and wanted something a little more vague and ambiguous (my favourite kind of writing) to really flush it out, and i can't say that it's worked so far, but it's definitely helped. many thanks to angularmomentum for cheerleading!

Nicky is untying Alex’s restraints now, watching him lean forward to put his weight against Nicky as much as he can manage. It’s going to be dusk, soon, and this is the rare occasion that Nicky doesn’t want to do it—doesn’t want to tie Alex up and slide his dick down his throat just for the sake of it, just because he’s able. Sometimes simplicity feels good too, the low contentedness of just being close without sexual intimacy. Alex is blinking sluggishly as warmth floods the room and the air is still enough for Nicky to feel restless. 

“Not feeling it?” Alex asks, his voice pitched low even if there’s no need. His body temperature is lower than Nicky’s, cooler than the floor they’re kneeling on. It’s a little awkward to stay like this, but Nicky feels like he’s wilting, and couldn’t put his finger on why.   

“I guess not,” Nicky says. Alex is still slumped against his shoulder, and he’s not looking at him. “Just a little bit of exhaustion. It’s not a big deal.” 

“Okay,” Alex says, as he slowly rises to his feet, his body slightly slick from the heat, and crosses the room to where the pitcher of water is so that he could drink from it straight, his throat working and his chest heaving like they’d done anything other than kneel, as if Nicklas had done anything else other than felt like everything in the world had changed when he was busy fucking, how the patience in Alex had caught him so off guard that he forgot how to want—and he’s still on the floor now, looking up at Alex, backlit and almost foreign. At some point someone’s gonna have to close the windows and turn the air conditioning on; Nicky can feel his body flushing red, and the soreness of his knees has just started to sink in, but he’s compelled to stay there, just to watch.

“What are you thinking?” asks Alex, and Nicky’s gaze fixes onto him, where he sees the strange softness that’s hard to quantify, really, on someone like him, but it’s amplified here, where Nicky’s suddenly unable to speak, shocked and stuck on the ground. “You okay?”

Nicky takes the hand that’s offered to him, and he staggers when he gets up. “Yeah,” he rasps. “I’m good,” and he makes sure not to clutch at Alex too hard, that he doesn’t hurt him needlessly, now that the scene is over.

 

 

“I want to tie you to the bed, sometimes,” Nicky says, his arm laid atop Alex’s chest and plastered to his side. “Just to keep you there.” No one has gone to shut the windows yet, and by now the sun has gone and everything feels mildly salty with the ocean right there. Perhaps Nicky shouldn’t be spending all of their time with the ropes and the blindfolds and the bruises, but everything’s on his dime, and Alex seems readily eager enough to stay here forever, slack-jawed with his lazy grin and suggestive comments.

“You can,” Alex tells him. “We’ve done that before.”

“We’ve done a lot of things before,” says Nicky, shifting to straddle him, hands pressing down against his chest. “I just don’t know if it’s getting stale.”

“What?”

“You know,” Nicky says, and then stops. “Boring.” 

Alex lets out a laugh then, nearly shaking with it. “Boring,” he repeats. “You think tying me up and hitting me is boring.”

“I don’t know,” Nicky says, nearly indignant. Alex with his naked trust doesn’t seem like it could ever be _boring_ , nothing like childhood sweets packed full of sugar, not when he’s tied up and panting for it while Nicky slaps his face hard enough that the whole of him turns red. “Do you think it’s boring?”

Alex rubs his hands up Nicky’s thighs, baring his neck just slightly. “Why would I?” 

“I don’t know,” Nicky says, and pinches one of his nipples, hard enough to hear Alex draw a hiss. “Maybe you don’t want me to hurt you anymore. Sometimes people grow out of habits.” He watches Alex’s breathing pick up, his mouth falling open—familiar by now, nothing out of the ordinary. “We’ve been doing this for a long time." 

“We’ve been doing a lot of things for a long time,” says Alex. “Doesn’t mean we stop doing them.”

Nicky palms his chest, trails his hand up to cup the side of his jaw. “Should we?”

“Maybe,” Alex says, and Nicky rubs his thumb over Alex’s bottom lip, heady at the control that Alex is giving him—that he still wants to give him. But it doesn’t seem like it matters all that much, now, with Alex’s eyes dark with something other than sex. It shouldn’t make Nicky uncomfortable, but his heart races with this, with how Alex lets him go this far.

“What if I don’t want sex with you anymore?” Nicky asks. If only they could do this normally—holding hands and trading kisses and going for dinner. But they almost mean nothing in comparison to having Alex under him, hurting because he likes it, legs spread because Nicky wants them like that. “What if this isn’t enough?” 

“Then we stop,” says Alex. “And then you think about it.”

Nicky pauses, takes his hand off Alex’s jaw. “Me,” he repeats. “Aren’t you supposed to think about it too?” 

“I don’t like breaking habits,” Alex says simply. "We stop if you want to stop. What do you want?" 

Nicky thinks about it, about how much of it is true, actual pleasure, or it's just possession, a beautiful sense of control over someone else's body that makes him feel good. He thinks about watching Alex from his knees, about how it felt to see him there for once, fixated on how he looked, like that, towering and massive and almost forgetting what they were here for, what they were running from. His knees burn after all of that—distantly he wonders if any of this could fix anything, if submission meant that he could slide out of this body, if stopping everything entirely chased this desperate feeling of needing to be loved away.

 

 

Nicky says, "I don't know where to go after this," later, lying on top of Alex just to lie on him, to touch without the promise of pleasurable pain, or anything that felt good, sexual. He thinks about how it's easier to beg for sex than everything else. He thinks about pulling Alex's hair in an embrace that's never anything but erotic, about how they've stayed rooted in sex all this time, and now they can't get out of it—but there's a future in here for them somewhere. He just can't find it yet, lost under the weight of a franchise he's failed, of a team they had poured too much into that it came at the price of everything else. 

Alex hums, wraps a hand around the back of his neck lightly. Not tight enough to hurt. Nicky doesn’t know if it’d help if it did. “Maybe we don’t go anywhere, Backy,” he says. “Maybe it’s enough, for now.”

**Author's Note:**

> all the standard warnings that accompany bdsm should be applied here! if anything squicks you out about bdsm, i'd strongly suggest not reading this fic. the sexual relationship between them is still being explored here, so it might seem a tad unhealthy if that disturbs you. this also has an unresolved ending (that i fully plan on resolving at some point) so not everything will be worked out by the end of this fic.


End file.
